Usually I find New Year's Eve depressing. I invariably end up at home, doing something un-extraordinary like, say, surfing the internet or reading a book. I always take my NYE hermitage as a sign that I'm about to embark on another year of feeling kind of shiftless and out of the loop. This year I didn't have to dread that awkward transitory evening; my mother decided to get married on it! Although it made for a busier than usual holiday season, I appreciated the opportunity to get dressed up, travel, bake, and celebrate! My mother and (now) step-father decided to have a small wedding, but liked the idea of going somewhere special for it. They decided on a Bed & Breakfast in upstate Vermont. The place was beautiful, and I had a lovely peach-walled room to myself, window seats and all. I packed comfortable clothes for walking around downtown as well as my laptop (love the free wifi) and a couple of new books. I managed to read almost nothing because I got sucked into watching The Human Centipede, a movie I can't even stand to think about for fear of getting re-grossed out. Suffice it to say, a friend posted about it on Facebook, saying she made the mistake of watching the preview, and I took the challenge. I think that says a lot about the kind of person I am. Tell me no and I say yes. Tell me yes and I say no. Sometimes.
Anyway, the ceremony was short and sweet, the officiant being an old family friend. The officiant's husband and I rounded out the wedding party. My mother and I made a grand entrance, walking (in my case, stumbling) down the B&B's front staircase in our fancy dresses. We assembled in the wedding suite's sitting room and vows were read. Afterward we all drove over to a different B&B for their special NYE dinner. Let me just say that I have never, EVER gotten grossed out by the richness of a meal. I swear I've never eaten so much cream in one sitting in my whole entire life. I started with lobster bisque, followed by creamy spinach-stuffed artichokes, beef wellington (tender beef smothered in a paste of mushrooms and liver, then wrapped in puff pastry), caramelized onion risotto, rainbow baby carrots, and maple syrup creme brulee. Oh, and I had a Manhattan, too, and I drank the whole damn thing. I felt like I was raising the spirit of my British ancestors between the drink and the Wellington. My mother ate lobster--not an easy feat when you're wearing a ball gown. I took a funny photo of her holding a lobster claw in front of her sequined, napkin-draped chest. By 11 we made it back to our B&B, where we managed to cram more champagne, German dessert wine (OMG, best thing ever!), and wedding cake into our stomachs. After the officiant and her husband left, my mom, step-dad, and I watched the ball drop, after which T.I. performed live (um, in NYC, on the TV, not in our B&B). My mom stood up and began doing an interpretive dance to his rapping, and I took that as my cue to leave them to their wedding night!
When my mother announced her engagement I immediately offered to make their wedding cake. I didn't expect that everything would be happening so fast! In the end I made a simple two-layer cake in red velvet, to honor my mother's bold personality as well as the holiday season. This was my second time making a red velvet cake, and I've discovered it's not my favorite. It just doesn't have the richness I expect in a cake. The recipe can be found here, if I haven't already scared you away! I covered it with a white vanilla buttercream, so that the cake looked traditional on the outside. I wanted the drama of cutting into something colorful and unexpected. And buttercream is my mother's favorite frosting, which never hurts. I used a new recipe, always a dangerous thing, but it came out well. I was nervous about having to make the cake two days prior to the wedding and then transporting it in the car and in and out of the B&B's refrigerator, so I used a special buttercream frosting that incorporates meringue powder, thus firming up the frosting. It worked well--the cake looked beautiful on New Year's Eve, and the frosting was still just as soft as a traditional buttercream.
We all had a wonderful time, and I'm so glad I got to be a part of the process. And hey, it'll be a piece of cake remembering my mother's anniversary. Pun intended.
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